The Birth of Something Great
by Illusionna
Summary: A young woman realizes her dream to meet the Autobots


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The Birth of Something Great

I stood outside of the bus station, waiting for the shuttle bus to arrive. I had been on so many busses that day, and I still had three more to go. I brought my hands to my mouth then blew on them, then placed the warm wool on my reddened nose. The cold, crisp air was invigorating at first but now it was becoming painful. My toes and fingertips were becoming numb.

Finally the shuttle came, to take me to the Newark Greyhound Bus Station. I waddled on, found an empty seat, threw my bags on it, then flung myself on my bags. The seat was cold and the shuttle was almost completely empty save an old man in the front.

Looking out the window, the sky was gray as far as the eye could see. The cold air permeated through the glass window. I readjusted my hat over my ears and blew into my hands once again. The sky touched the white landscape. Way at thehorizon. All the trees were rather bare, an occasional evergreen popping up on the deserted road.

Going into Newark changes all of that. The air didn't get warmer, and neither did the seat, but the ever-lasting gray was no longer visible. Because of the shadow cast by the clouds, many of the buildings had their lights on. It didn't help much. Little dots of blue and yellow did not light up the gray of the sky and the gray of the buildings.

Half an hour after boarding, the shuttle bus reached the Greyhound station. I stumbled off with my bags and gasped at the blast of cold air that welcomed me. I guess it had been warmer at the boarding screen. Bus 375, leaving Newark at 3:00 p.m., was on schedule and at boarding platform two. I glanced at the date, for no particular reason. It was correct, January first, 1995. The background of the screen was gray, with black lettering. Rather glum, I thought.

I went to platform two, glancing at my watch. 2:55 p.m. That's cutting it kind of close, Katy, I told myself. Giving my bags to the loading boy, I walked over to the door of the bus, obviously they were running late. The screen had been wrong.

The platform was a dull steel color, with very few people walking across. There was a middle-aged woman with a small dog, and the old man from the shuttle bus. Both were coming to the bus door, which was closed.

After about five minutes, a grossly fat man came rolling toward us. His blue shirt did not meet his gray rayon pants, and his huge belly bulged out between them. His hair was black, both on his head and his gut. His eyes were almost nonexistent, the pockets of fat both above and below them flowed together. He wore thick-rimmed glasses, the frames were the same color gray as his trousers. "All aboard," he said opening the bus door and somehow getting to the drivers seat. I let the old man and woman board before me, I then followed them to the near empty bus. The driver gave me a gross smile as I passed. I smiled back, out of courtesy.

I went to my seat, 30A. The seats were made of a velour type material, with cushioned insides and backs. The seat was warm, like the rest of the bus. I no longer saw my breath and my nose and fingers were that warm type of numb that you get when you drink too much. I took off my gloves and my hat as we left the station. After about five minutes, I took off my coat as well.

My seat was in the middle of the bus. The old man and lady were in the front, and another driver in the back. This was a nonstop drive to Portland Oregon. Two and a half days on a Greyhound bus.

The bus didn't stay empty. After an hour, it filled to the brim with people. I had a window seat, and the man next to me had the isle. He had blond hair and amber eyes, with a red nose with me first got on the bus. That went away though, he was tall, maybe six feet two, and strong looking. He had on a white turtle neck under a black sweater with snow drops on it.

He smiled and asked where I was going. "Oregon," I replied.

"Really?" he answered, recognition in his yellow eyes. "Where?"

"Portland," I said.

"I've been to Portland," he beamed, and proceeded to tell me about it. It was very pretty, he said, with lots of mountains about it. It was very pretty, he said, with lots of mountains and waterfalls; though the waterfalls were probably frozen this time of year. It snows a lot, he said. I told him that it couldn't snow more then in New Jersey.

We talked about Christmas, and how funny it was to be travelling on New Year Day. He was going back to his job in Wisconsin, a town called Elizabeth. I told him I had been invited to Metroplex, Autobot City, as a reward for writing merit in the field of robotics and science fiction. He looked impressed.

After the first day, he got off in Green Bay to head home. By this time, the bus had filtered some, and there wasn't as many people.

He was right, though, there was a lot more snow. Everything was now white, except for the sky. It stretched gray for endless miles. The snow was falling, and it made me glad that I was inside the bus. I had taken off my long underwear some time back in Pennsylvania. The bus was uncomfortably warm and sometimes it was hard to breath. My clothes had become restrictive and now that the amber-eyed man was gone, I had nothing to do.

About an hour before we reached Portland, I put my long underwear back on under my clothes and got my outerwear ready. The snow was coming down hard, and it all settled on the bare branches of the trees. There were a lot of trees, more then in New Jersey.

I put on my coat, gloves, and hat and got off the bus. We had arrived late, it was 5:00 p.m. I took my luggage from the loading boy, and struggled to the front of the bus station.

Shuttles crowded in the street in front, people were rushing from place to place to catch one. Things must be more hectic on January fourth than on New Year. I found my bus, it was air-force blue. I stumbled on and found a seat. I had to put my bags on the floor, because the was very crowded.

The shuttle traveled much slower then they do in New Jersey. The snow was everywhere. There was at least five feet of it in little mountains on the side of the highway. It was getting dark, so the gray of the clouds was no longer discernible from the gray of the far away snow.

After an hour, out of the night, there arose a city, a very magnificent city. It was shaped strangely, and shone with a light like the sun. It came closer and closer, until finally the shuttle stopped. We were in front of a bridge, the lead over a ravine to the metropolis. I waited, and made sure I was the last off the bus.

I got off, having trouble with my bags. As I turned to look at the lit up city, a huge robot stepped in front of me. He was white, with a blue and red trim. "Miss Edmund?" he asked.

I nodded and had the urge to stick out my hand. But that would have been silly, as he was around fifty feet tall, and never would have been able to shake it.

We stood there for a moment, with the cold biting at my feet and the snow falling softly on my shoulders. I had the feeling if he were human, the Autobot would have been very handsome. He had a sweet smile and a sweet tone to his voice as he said, with a motion to the city behind him, "welcome to Autobot City. This is Metroplex." He motioned for me to follow him, so I walked, dragging my bags behind me. I would have followed this Autobot anywhere if he had asked me to. I didn't quite know why. "My name," he said, as we crossed the bridge into the city, "is Ultra Magnus."


End file.
